The Accident
by DeanFan
Summary: Fourteen year old Sammy is paralyzed after a freak swimming accident. Will he be able to walk again or will the Winchester family spiral downhill? LimpSam! WARNING! DRUG ABUSE!
1. Chapter 1

**Beta:**** Awesome Samantha V**

**A/N:**** This is my first attempt to write a LimpSam story. I don't know if this plot has been done yet so I apologize if it has been done before. By plot, I mean Sam being paralyzed after a swimming accident.**

**THE ACCIDENT**

"Dean, come on! You're acting like a girl!" Fourteen year old Sam yelled from his bed.

"Shut up, Sammy!" his older brother Dean yelled back from the bathroom.

Sam knew why Dean was taking so long - he didn't want to be seen in shorts because of his white legs. It was Dean's fault anyways that they were so white. He never wore any shorts during the summer.

The school year had just ended and Sam wanted to do his usual tradition: swim. Swimming made him have a little bit of the normalcy that he had been yearning for all his life. They were stuck in this dusty middle of nowheresville where dad had dumped them for his latest gig, but the weather was fine and he was determined to make the most of it.

"It's Sam," Sam said annoyed. "And I'm going to the pool with or without you!" he said standing up.

"Alright!" Dean yelled giving in. He came out of the bathroom wearing navy blue swim trunks.

Sam started laughing at how pale Dean's legs really were.

Dean glared at his younger brother. "Keep laughing and I'll drown your ass," he threatened.

Sam grabbed his towel. "You say that every summer, Dean." Sam was unfazed by his brother's threat and headed out the door.

Dean snatched the room key off the table before closing the door behind him and followed Sammy to the pool. Opening the pool gate, he let his brother go in first before letting it slam shut.

The pool, like the motel, wasn't much but Dean grinned when he saw a pretty sixteen year old girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes jump into the water.

"She's out of your league," Sam said tossing his towel on one of the nearby chairs.

"No she's not," Dean said, mimicking his brother and doing the same thing with his towel.

Dean watched as the girl came back up for much needed air and swam towards the shallow end. Smiling at Dean, she pulled her wet hair into a messy bun

"Like what you see?" she asked, pulling herself up onto the edge of the deck.

"You have no idea," Dean said staring making her laugh.

Sam whacked Dean upside his head.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Dean pouted, rubbing the spot where Sam had hit him.

"Show some respect, dude."

The girl winked at the older boy. "You should listen to the kid. He's smart."

"He likes to think he is. I'm Dean."

"Claire."

"The smart one is Sam," Sam said smiling.

"You look like a Sam," she told him.

Dean glared at his brother for making him look like an idiot in front of the hot chick. Lightning quick he reached out, grabbed a skinny shoulder and pushed Sam into the pool.

"Dean, that was uncalled for!" Claire sputtered in shock.

Dean jumped in next coming up for air. "It's fine. I do that to him every summer."

Claire peered at the glittering water, seeing the dark shadow of the younger boy deep beneath the ripples and noticed he wasn't coming up. "Sam!" Claire yelled.

Dean groaned. "He's just doing that to get attention. Trust me."

"Dean, he isn't moving!" Claire said before diving underwater.

Dean frantically went after her and saw Sam's body at the bottom of the pool. He quickly reached his little brother first and pulled him up to the surface.

"Sammy, I swear to God if you're faking…"

Coughing before taking a few deep breaths, Sam locked wide frightened eyes on his brother. "I can't feel anything."


	2. Chapter 2

**Beta:**** Awesome Samantha V**

_**Huge thanks to all of you that's reviewed**_

"I'm so sorry, Sammy. You're going to be okay," Dean said trying to calm his brother down. He'd never admit but he was trying to convince himself as well as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Claire had run to the main office and dialed 911.

It was obvious Sammy was in tremendous pain. He closed his eyes. "It hurts," he said a tear escaping the corner of his eye.

Dean swallowed hard. "I know."

Sirens wailed as they pulled into the parking lot. Dean wasn't sure what happened next. Time had seemed to pull itself apart, each moment a century, and then it was all moving too fast. One minute he was holding Sam's hand and the next he was being none too gently yanked away from his little brother as paramedics swarmed to loudly spew medical jargon that was meaningless to his shocked ears and gently put a neck brace on the too still pale form; dripping water evaporating on the sun-soaked deck. Sam cried out in pain when the paramedics lifted him onto the stretcher.

"You're hurting him!" Snapping out of his daze, Dean yelled struggling to get out of the strong arms that were holding him in place.

"Son, they have to load him so they can get your brother to the hospital," a voice told him.

Voice was all Dean heard. He didn't care who the voice belonged to. He cared about how much pain his little brother was in because of him and his stupidity. Guilt wrenched through him, warring with worry, he was supposed to have been looking out for his little brother not hurting him.

"Son, we'll take you to the hospital." Looking up at the voice Dean barely registered the no nonsense but friendly face and dark uniform beneath.

Dean forced his legs to move as he was being led to a police car. Since he was underage the cops had shown up.

"Watch your head," the same voice told him as he slid onto the back seat.

"Sammy's going to be alright. Sammy's going to be alright…' Dean kept repeating to himself.

**SPN**

The ride in the ambulance was one of the worst experiences that Sam had ever been through. Any sudden movement he would scream as skyrockets of agony shot up and down his spine, making black spots dance in front of his eyes as unconsciousness teased but refused to commit. A sudden jarring dip forced a whimper from his lips and he felt a cool hand brush his forehead. A distant part of his brain cursed the freaking potholes in the road. What the hell was taxpayer's money for anyways if the city wasn't going to fix the stupid roads? He thought that maybe that would be the worst but then there were the corner turns…

Just when he thought the jostling was over as the ambulance finally made it to the hospital he was again proven wrong. The cool hand was back again on his head and he could hear someone talking but it was all erased during the searing agony that was the part of being rushed on the gurney. The wheels clinking against the floor making the pain more excruciating than it already was.

Sam opened his eyes when he felt the gurney stop. All he wanted was his big brother next to him.

Blinking at the bright light reflecting off the pale walls he ignored all the movement around him. "Where's Dean?" Sam demanded as strongly as he could, refusing to let his voice crack. "I want my brother."

"Your brother is right outside. Sam, my name is Dr. Conrad. I'll be treating you." The large frame that was attached to the deep voice leaned over him entering into his limited line of sight.

Sam studied the doctor. He was tall, freakishly tall, well over 6'5" with short gray hair and brown eyes. He had a mustache that reminded Sam of Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I. and wore a white doctor's jacket.

"I want my brother," Sam repeated, not caring that his words trembled.

"You can see Dean after I examine you. Can you tell me where the pain is?"

Sam swallowed hard. "My lower back, but any sudden movement makes it hurt all over," he said with tears in his eyes.

"You have my word Sam that I'm going to do everything I can to help you," Dr. Conrad told him.

For some bizarre reason Sam believed him.

**SPN**

Dean paced back and forth in front of the phone in the hall. He knew he should call his dad but part of him was dreading what his father would say when he learned Dean was the cause of Sammy being hurt.

"Dean, is there anything I can do?" A tentative hand on his shoulder had him looking up in surprise.

"Claire! You don't have to be here. You've done enough."

"It's hard for me to just walk away. I was there when it happened," she said reminding him.

"I know but most people would just go on about their business by now."

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "I'm not like most people."

"I never should have pushed Sammy into the pool," he said letting go of her hand as if it burned him.

Claire hated seeing guilt written all over Dean's face. "Dean, no one could have known what would happen. It was a freak accident. That's all."

Dean glared at her. "It was a freak accident that I caused!"

"You've got to stop blaming yourself, Dean. All this guilt is going to eat you alive. Do you think Sam would want that?"

"No," he sighed, defeated, "he wouldn't." "I have to call my dad. You don't have to stay, Claire."

"I want to," she said smiling. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Coffee," he said. "Black."

"I'll be back," she said leaving him alone.

Dean eyed the phone as if it were a demon. "Let the yelling begin," he said calling John's cell. After a few rings it went straight to voicemail. Dean closed his eyes. "Dad it's me. I'm at the hospital. Sammy had an accident and it's pretty bad. Please drop whatever hunt you're on and get here. Sammy needs you."

Dean quickly hung up and started crying. He couldn't keep it in anymore. All his emotions got the best of him. Here he was having a breakdown in a freaking hospital! Who was he kidding? He wasn't strong. He couldn't hold it together for his little brother. He suddenly wished he had a time machine to fix everything. He just hoped that Sammy would forgive him.

**SPN**

John listened to Dean's message with his hand gripping the phone hard. How in the hell could Dean let this happen?

"Everything alright, John?" his good friend Bobby Singer asked.

"No," John said putting the phone away. "Sammy had an accident. He's at the hospital."

"I'm sorry, John. Go be with your boy. I can finish this case up by myself," Bobby told him in his study/living room.

"I can't leave you alone. We're dealing with ghouls."

"Don't make me slap you upside your head, idjit. Your boy is in the hospital. He needs his father. Now go before I toss your sorry butt outside."

John smiled at his friend. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Concentrate on your boys. They are the ones that need you."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you all for the awesome reviews. Sorry it took awhile for me to update but life got in the way. I'm going to try to post a chapter each week for you.**_

**Beta:**** Badass Samantha V**

Dean sat numbly in the waiting room, staring at the clock as each minute moved closer to when his father would arrive. He knew as soon as he did Dean would see the look of anger and disappointment written all over his father's face.

Dean knew he'd failed to protect his little brother. It made his stomach churn knowing that it was his fault Sammy was in pain, injured. No matter what his father was going to yell at him it'd be the truth and he deserved it.

Light and motion swirled around him but everything that was happening in the hospital was all muffled to his ears. He knew that there was noise but his mind didn't even register it until he felt a familiar hand clamp onto his shoulder, bringing him out of his daze.

"Dean, what the hell happened? You were supposed to be watching Sam!"

Dean forced himself to look up at his father. "I screwed up. It was just a joke. I didn't know Sammy would get hurt because of it," he cried letting tears fall. He didn't care if his father saw him as weak. This was Sammy; how could he not cry?

His father crouched down to look him in the eye and he forced himself not to cringe at the intense gaze and the strong hands now on both his shoulders. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"Sam wanted to go swimming so I took him to the pool. There was this girl and Sam sort of embarrassed me in front of her, so I pushed him in the water…" he explained as his green eyes filled with tears.

John couldn't believe what he was hearing! "Are you telling me that Sam could be paralyzed for life because he embarrassed you in front of a girl! What the hell were you thinking, Dean?" Standing up and pushing away from his son, John's shouting caught everyone's attention in the waiting room.

Looking down at the floor, Dean was unable to look at John's face and stayed silent. He had never seen his father this angry before. Not even the time when Sam had run away from 'home'.

"Do you realize once Child Services gets a word of this we could lose him?"

Dean startled and the blood drained from his face – he hadn't thought of that. He couldn't lose Sammy. Their family had already lost so much.

"I'm sorry,' he whispered but John had heard him.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Dean!" John ranted, barely noticing his son's flinch as if he'd been slapped. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself down, only realizing when he did that everyone was looking at them. He didn't care what they thought of him at the moment, his main focus was his youngest son. "What the hell are you all looking at?" he growled.

Most of them returned to what they were doing before. The rest gave John a 'look' before returning to what they were doing.

"If we lose, Sammy…" John's voice trailed off unable to finish the sentence. "I'm going to go see if there's any news," he bit out, spinning away to stomp to the nurse's station.

Dean choked on a sob. He shouldn't be crying because this was his fault. He caused it.

**SPN**

Sam was thrilled when the nurse smiled, said they were all finished, and he was wheeled into a hospital room. Dr. Conrad had done more tests than Sam had even known existed. He had almost made it through all of them without calling for his brother except for one when the doctor had stuck a needle in his back. That had been unpleasant to say the least.

He'd been good though, not kicking up a fuss no matter how much he was hurting, because that was what his dad would expect, plus Dr. Conrad told him that he would bring Dean in to see him as soon as they were done. Sam knew that his brother would be blaming himself for what had happened but he didn't blame him. It was just a freak accident.

When Dr. Conrad had told Sam that the paralysis wasn't permanent, that it could be fixed with some visits to a Chiropractor, that was the first time Sam had smiled since he was rushed to the hospital. That meant that as soon as Dean found out, he would stop blaming himself.

Actually he was feeling pretty good. The pain wasn't so bad now that he had been introduced to the wonderful world of medicine in his IV. The funny thing was he kept pressing the button wanting more. He expected a great gush to flow into his IV but it just kept dripping slowly in. He frowned at the small device in his hand wondering how to make it drip in faster.

"Honey, you can keep pressing that button for more but it's just going to come out the same," a young nurse said with a smile, bringing in a tray of food for him.

Sam sighed giving up on the morphine as the nurse set the tray in front of him on a low, swinging table that she moved to within his reach.

"I must say you look a lot better," she said removing the cover of the tray for him. "I hope you like a turkey sandwich and jell-o."

At the smell of the food it made his stomach growl. He hadn't realized how hungry he actually was.

"I do. Thank you," he said with a goofy smile from the morphine making the nurse giggle.

"You are so adorable."

"Do you know when my brother Dean will be allowed in?"

"Dr. Conrad is talking to your father and brother right now. Once he's finished they can see you. Enjoy your meal." With a smile and efficient bustle she walked out of the room.

Sam's eyes went wide. His father was here? Now Dean was really going to blame himself.

**SPN**

John listened as Sam's doctor explained to him about his son's condition and he had to ask the doctor to repeat it to make sure he'd heard him right.

"So, you're saying that Sammy will be able to walk again?" John asked hopefully.

Dr. Conrad smiled. "Yes. He just pulled a nerve. I've seen it happen hundreds of times."

John sighed with relief. "Thank, God."

"But in the meantime you and your other son Dean are going to have to help him out with the basics - showering, getting dressed and so forth."

John made a funny look. "No offense, doc, but I don't think Sam's going to like us giving him a shower."

"It's his choice if he wants to stink," the doc said making a joke, but stifled his grin at the grim expression of the man in front of him.

"Right, thanks again."

"Here's my number in case you need anything else," he said scribbling on a pad, giving John the piece of paper.

After receiving the frantic message, tearing to the hospital and endless moments not knowing what was happening, John couldn't believe Sammy was going to be fine. He walked back to the waiting room and found Dean sitting with his head in his hands. He knew he'd been rough with the boy earlier but he couldn't help it, Dean had to learn to be more careful. He would never forgive himself if anything ever happened to his children.

"Dean, Sammy's going to be fine."

Dean's head snapped up. "He is?"

"The paralysis is temporary. We're going to have to help him out for a while until he's able to walk again, but he'll be fine." He sighed at the flood of relief and hope that washed across his son's tear blotched face. "I'm sorry for losing my temper with you earlier."

Dean couldn't believe his father was apologizing to him. "I deserved it. I failed watching him."

John placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Accidents happen. The reason why I lost my temper with you is because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything ever happened to you kids. Losing your mother nearly killed me, I can't go through that pain again."

Dean didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to his father being so open with him.

"Can we go see Sammy now?" Dean asked.

John nodded, walking with his son down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all for understanding. Last wee****k it was very difficult for me. It's still hard but I'm back as promised. I already have the next chapter halfway done.**

**Beta:**** Badass Samantha V**

Sam was just about to polish off the last of his sandwich when he saw his father and Dean enter his room. He smiled when he saw Dean but it quickly vanished when he noticed how upset his brother looked. There were circles under Dean's eyes so dark they looked purple and he looked… fragile, a word he'd never thought would apply to his perpetually strong, perpetually cocky brother.

"Sammy," John leaned over the bed, giving him a careful hug. Sam was stunned. He wasn't used to hugs from his father.

"I'm okay, dad. Whatever they're giving me it's keeping the pain away,' he told his father when he pulled back.

"Good news is that you'll be able to get out of this joint tomorrow. They just want to keep you overnight for observation."

"And then what?"

John sighed. "We're going to have to find a place that's permanent so you can recuperate."

"What about Bobby's?" Dean spoke up. "It's not that far from here. I'm sure he won't mind."

John shook his head. "We can't just impose on Bobby like that."

"I want to stay there." Sam spoke maybe a bit too quickly, leaping at the chance. "I mean, it's the only place close enough to a home besides Pastor Jim."

John knew Sam had a point. He needed a place to recover that he liked. "I'll call Bobby and ask him, okay? It'll give you and Dean a chance to talk." Giving his youngest a thoughtful look, he stood up and swept out of the room.

Dean shifted his feet nervously as his father walked past him, not able to look up.

The room was quiet as he pretended to stare in fascination at a stain on the tiles, trying to decide if it looked more like a turtle or a really flat, fat bunny. He had absolutely no desire to talk, there were no words that he could say to make up for what he'd done. He wished that Sam would yell at him, he'd deserve it, hell, he'd deserve it if his brother decided to never speak or have anything to do with him ever again.

"Stop blaming yourself, Dean." Sammy apparently had other ideas.

Damn it. He was freaking going to cry again. "Would people just stop saying that?" he snapped, eyes jerking away from the floor to face his brother, his responsibility. "It was my fault and we all know that!"

The sudden outburst of anger surprised Sam. It had been an accident, he knew that, and just wished Dean did too. He was going to walk again so why couldn't Dean just let it go?

Dean cursed silently when he noticed Sam looking afraid of him. His features softened.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean to yell at you like that."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. What's wrong with me? I put my little brother in a wheelchair and then I yell at him?" Dean said placing his face in his hands in defeat.

"I don't want you to blame yourself anymore. Promise me."

"I can't," Dean said walking out of the room.

**SPN**

John hated using public phones. They were dirty, sticky and not to mention the germs. Granted John was not a germ freak but he was sure others would agree with him. Then there was the time a piece of gum had gotten stuck in his ear. That had been unpleasant! He could buy a cell phone since technically he wouldn't really be the one paying for it, but he could barely work a toaster. There was no way in hell he could ever figure out one of those contraptions.

Placing a quarter in the slot he dialed. Bobby answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" a familiar voice grumbled on the other end.

"Bobby, it's John."

"John. How's Sammy doing?"

"He's going to be okay. His doctor said he'll be able to walk again." Scrubbing his hand down his face, he leaned against the booth wall and hoped he didn't sound as worn out as he felt.

Bobby sighed with what John thought was relief.

"That's good news. Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually there is. Sammy wants to stay at your place until he recovers."

"You know you don't have to ask me, John. I'd do anything for those boys."

Despite himself John smiled. The man may generally be crankier than a grizzly bear but he knew he could always trust Bobby with his kids.

"I'm grateful for that, Bobby."

"Guess I better stock up on food and beer. When are you guys coming?"

"Sam's being released tomorrow," John explained. "We should be there in the evening."

"Alrighty. You idjits be careful."

"You too." Straightening up, John placed the phone back on the hook.

At least having a place to stay was settled.

John made his way back to the room and noticed Sammy was alone when he walked in.

"Where's Dean?"

Sammy looked at him with those puppy eyes of his. "He left. He's blaming himself for the accident. I know he didn't do it on purpose."

John sighed and ran a tired hand through his hair. Part of him wanted to go after his oldest and knock some sense into him but he knew that that would only make it worse; best to give the kid some space. "Dean will stop blaming himself in time. Just concentrate on getting better," he said with a reassuring smile. "So, did they feed you yet?" he asked sitting down on the chair next to the bed.

Sam had a sour look on his face. "I ate a sandwich."

"I'm guessing it wasn't good?"

"Dad, even _you_ can make a better sandwich."

John laughed.

**SPN**

Dean didn't know how he had made it back to the motel. All he knew was he had to get away from the hospital. It was too hard to see his little brother lying helpless in bed because of him.

He stood on the edge of the pool staring at the water where he had pushed Sammy in. Sam had told him it was just an accident. That he didn't mean to do it. Part of that was true but his mind wouldn't accept that.

"Dean? How's your brother?"

Dean snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at Clair walking towards him, neat ponytail bobbing. He almost smiled at the pretty picture she made in a pair of black shorts and a pink tank top before a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

"He can't walk," Dean croaked. "And it's because of me."

"It was an accident."

There was that word again_ - accident!_ "I wish people would stop saying that!" He yelled angrily scaring her. He watched her take a step back in fear before running away to leave him alone.

He needed something to take his mind off of what happened. Anything!

His heart was beating fast and he was breathing hard. There was only one thing he knew that would help, something he'd sworn he'd never do, but he was no good to anybody, never had been and never would be, so what did it matter.

**SPN**

"Are you sure you want to do this, kid? Once you do, I promise you'll be hooked," the ugly drug dealer asked.

Though he wisely didn't say anything, Dean's lip quirked at being called a 'kid'; the pusher looked to be around the same age as him. "I just need something to put me in a zone for awhile."

The guy smirked. "It's your funeral. Money first," he said holding out his left hand.

Dean took some crumpled bills out of his wallet and slapped them in the guy's palm.

"Enjoy, kid." Handing Dean a small plastic bag he watched closely as his customer quickly stuffed it in his jacket before nodding and striding away. He'd have to remember this one's face, he'd be back again… and again. He held in his laugh.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the creep called at the retreating back.

**SPN**

Once back at the motel room, Dean made sure that the door was locked and went in the bathroom. Pulling the plastic baggie out of his jacket he stared at it. It didn't look like much, could be something he bought in the supermarket instead of in a dim grimy doorway in a part of town most people didn't like to go. He closed his eyes. He'd been through a lot of crap in his life but this… this deep ache in his gut and his head, knowing what he had done, his mind tortured with images over and over and over again of Sammy lying not moving and how he'd been _happy_ when he'd pushed him… it was too much. He knew he shouldn't do this but he just wanted it all to stop. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and with a trembling hand he undid the bag and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Time to make the pain go away…."

**SPN**

John had tried calling Dean's cell phone but kept getting his voicemail.

"Damn it, Dean." John was worried. The nagging sense that maybe he should have gone after Dean had been bugging him ever since he'd come in to find him gone, but he knew his eldest was tough and the boy did need to learn a lesson about looking after his brother but it wasn't like the boy not to answer. He looked at Sam's peacefully sleeping form. "I'll be back."

**SPN**

Dean wiped his nose with the back of his hand and stumbled out of the bathroom. He could already feel it working though he was starting to get scared not knowing what was going to happen next.


	5. Chapter 5

**Huge thanks to all of you that has reviewed. I didn't expect to get that many reviews for one chapter. LOL! It helped me get this chapter out faster for you happy readers.**

**Beta****: Badass Samantha V**

John drove back to the motel room a little erratically earning some horns honking and some cussing from other drivers but he didn't care. His mind was on his eldest son. He ran over a speed bump as he entered the parking lot and winced. That couldn't be good for the Impala. Quickly finding a parking spot, he glided in shutting the engine off, taking the key out of the ignition.

Easing out of the car, he glanced around the parking lot but saw nothing immediately threatening, or even moving, other than what looked like a perfectly ordinary cat that stared at him before running behind the dumpster. After making sure he wasn't being watched, he pulled out his gun and cautiously unlocked the door to the motel room, slid in and pushed it quietly shut behind him. The room was dark, curtains closed just like he had always taught his boys so no one could see any weapons lying around out in the open.

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark he spotted Dean sprawled out on one of the beds, half hanging off, passed out. John sighed, relieved that Dean was okay. He placed his gun back in his coat pocket.

_Poor kid,_ John thought,_ must have worn himself out worrying over Sammy_. He had never seen Dean sleep that way before and knew he would have a crick in his neck when he woke up.

Turning the light on next to a wooden table, John sat down. The edges of the light just caught his son's shape as a shadowy lump on the bed and he watched, feeling guilty as hell for the way he talked to him after the accident. Dean has always done what he asked without question and this was how John repaid him?

"Maybe, we need a vacation." John thought out loud; the boys deserved one. Scrubbing his face with his hand he forced himself to look away. He decided he would let the boys pick where they wanted to go.

Bones creaking in a way he would never admit, John stood up and grabbed his duffle bag deciding on a much needed shower to help him relax. He walked in the bathroom and closed the door behind him locking it. He frowned when he saw a plastic bag on the floor next to the small trash can. Without another thought, he bent down picking it up and tossing it in.

**SPN**

The clunk and whine of water running in the pipes worked better than an alarm clock, Dean groaned then sat bolt upright when he remembered he had left the evidence in the bathroom like an idiot! He closed his eyes.

"Please dad, don't find the bag," he silently prayed.

How could he have been so stupid?

"Because I'm new at this," he told himself automatically. "Note to self - don't leave evidence out in plain sight."

Cursing he pushed himself up off the bed, pausing to ease the head rush before straightening. He figured it might make his dad a little suspicious if he burst into the room to snatch up his candy while the man was trying to take a shower.

All thoughts of being caught aside, the memory of the white powder made him twitch. It wasn't like what he thought, rather all sweet and sour, had given him energy like he hadn't had in ages, made him stronger, made him feel good, made him forget... The tingle in his fingertips was all that was left of the buzz but overall he did feel better though, so that was a plus. He grinned. That was the last time he was ever going to feel sorry…

**SPN**

John came out of the bathroom, his hair still wet but completely refreshed and instantly smelled food. He noticed Dean wasn't in his bed and spotted him sitting at the table eating his favorite: double bacon cheeseburger.

"Hope there's no onions on that," John smiled referring to Dean's bad case of onion breath.

"Sorry, dad," Dean smirked. "I got you one without onions."

Shaking his head, John sat down across from Dean, taking the wrapping off the burger that had been placed in front of him.

"You look like you're doing better," John told him as he took a bite of his burger. While he meant what he said, he couldn't help but look closely at his son as he chewed. His oldest looked the same as always, hair a bit mussed, but he didn't like how he wasn't looking him in the eye. Mentally he sighed, he guessed he deserved it after he'd reamed the kid out and he hadn't deserved it.

Dean swallowed his food and nodded. "I guess I just need a good rest. I know Sammy's still going to have it rough. I need to be strong for him."

"You scared Sammy today. He was real worried about you."

"I know. I shouldn't have gone off like that. I can't change what happened. Only learn from it. I promise it won't happen again."

John took a deep breath. "I don't care if it happens again, Dean. It's better for you to act out than to keep everything bottled up inside. You saw what it did to me after we lost your mom. It's not healthy."

Dean narrowed his eyes looking down at the table. "I know, dad."

John took another bite of his burger. "Listen, I was thinking once we settle down and Sammy gets better we can all go on a much needed vacation."

Dean nearly choked on his food and immediately raised his head to stare. "Are you serious, dad?"

"Of, course I'm serious. I wouldn't have brought it up if I wasn't." John chuckled, pleased that Dean was finally looking at him. Maybe he hadn't screwed up so badly after all.

"It's just that we've never had a vacation dad. Ever!"

"I'm trying here, Dean."

"If you're true to your word then we should let Sammy pick."

John nodded. "I agree."

**SPN**

After dinner, Dean went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and quickly began looking all over for the plastic bag.

"Where the hell did I leave it?" He hissed quietly as he scoured the grungy tiled floor ignoring the questionable stains and mystery marks.

Squatting next to the toilet he found it in plain sight slumped next to the overflowing trash can. Anger dissolved, washed away by relief as he bent down and picked it up, stuffing it into his pocket.

That was a close call. He knew his dad didn't see it otherwise he would have brought it up during dinner.

"I must be the dumbest drug user on earth. What the hell was I thinking?" he muttered to himself.

**SPN**

The next day John and Dean had gone to spring Sammy out of the hospital. The boys were playing rock, paper, scissors, while John was out in the hall signing release forms and talking to Sammy's doctor. A black cushioned wheelchair was parked next the bed.

Sam kept winning each hand, smiling at the look on Dean's face every time he lost.

"Okay, I'm done," Dean said popping his now cramped fingers.

"You're just done because you're a sore loser," Sam piped up.

"Jerk," Dean said playfully.

"Bitch," Sam tossed back.

It was the usual routine with them which meant things were pretty much back to normal. Or at least it was at that moment.

Sam glanced at the wheelchair thankful school was out for the summer. He knew if he had to go to class in one of those things he would have been picked on more than usual.

Dean watched his brother look at the wheelchair and quickly pushed the guilt away. Things where fine between them and he didn't want to ruin it by having a pissing fit.

"At least you don't have to be in that thing all the time," Dean said trying to lighten the situation.

"At least dad will be able to park anywhere up close now," Sam said smiling and making Dean laugh.

John walked in the room smiling at his boys. "What's so funny?"

"I just told Dean that you'll be able to find a parking spot up close now," Sam told him.

John nodded thoughtfully. "It will definitely come in handy at the Walmart parking lots. You boys ready to go.

They both nodded eagerly, especially Sam.

Slipping his arms under Sam's back and knees Dean carefully picked his brother up to gently place him in his new wheelchair.

John grabbed Sammy's bag and slung it over his right shoulder.

"Who do you want to drive?" John asked referring to who Sammy wanted pushing him.

"Dean," Sam answered.

Dean cleared his throat as he walked behind the wheelchair and began to push.

"Do you want me to go fast?" Dean asked jokingly as they walked out of the hospital room towards the elevators earning him a mischievous dimpled smile and warning bearded frown which had him gulping and immediately slowing to a sedate crawl to the end of the hall.

John pressed the down button as they waited.

"What do you want for dinner, Sam?" John asked.

"Could we get pizza?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Pizza it is."

"And ice cream for later," Sam added with a grin.

"That means Sammy's going to be on a sugar rush tonight," Dean chuckled.

The elevator finally dinged and like magic the doors opened. Dean wheeled Sam in followed by John who nonchalantly pressed the lobby button.

Looking at his sons as they talked and bickered, John couldn't help but feel content. Sam would get better, he'd been a bit harsh but Dean had learned his lesson, they were going 'home' - so far everything was going great for the Winchester family.


	6. Chapter 6

**Beta:**** Badass Samantha V**

After Sam got released from the hospital, John had driven the boys back to the motel to pack up so they could head straight to Bobby's where Sammy could begin his recovery. Ordering Dean to stay in the car with Sammy, John headed inside and efficiently began gathering all their belongings.

Truth be told, John was glad they were finally leaving this hellhole of a town. It had caused nothing but bad luck since the minute he'd arrived there.

Dean took the backseat so it would be a little easier for his little brother to get in and out of the car then instantly regretted his offer when Dean found out there was hardly any leg room in the back. Now Dean sulked, waiting impatiently for John.

"Hey, Dean. Isn't that the girl that helped us?" Sam squinted in the sun, trying to focus on a nearby bright-headed figure.

Wincing, Dean followed Sam's line of sight and fought the urge to duck. He was hoping to leave town without seeing Claire. He knew he had scared the shit out of her.

"Yeah, that's Claire." Dean said, watching her walk out of the pool area with a beach towel wrapped around her.

"I want to thank her," Sam said.

"Sammy, all she did was call 911." Dean groaned, hoping to avoid her.

"Dean, please." Sam begged turning his head around, giving him his puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," Dean muttered, caving in. He opened the door and got out closing it behind him. "Claire!"

Claire stopped walking and turned to see who had called her name. She tensed when she saw Dean but it faded away when she realized she could also see Sam in the car.

"How's your brother?" she asked nervously.

"He's going to be, okay. I'm sorry for how I acted before. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay. You were upset about what happened," she said giving him a light smile. "Are you going to be sticking around for awhile?"

"No, we're going to a friend's house," Dean answered.

Can anybody say awkward? He couldn't quite look her in the eye and shifted from foot to foot wondering what the hell else he was supposed to say.

"Mind if I say goodbye to Sam?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"He'd love that," Dean said.

The two walked towards the car, Claire waving and smiling at Sam before leaning into the open window.

"Dean tells me you guys are leaving. Sure am going to miss seeing you at the-," Claire stopped herself. "I mean around here."

Sam smiled. "It's okay. You can say pool. What happened to me is never going to stop me from swimming again."

Claire couldn't help but smile wider. "You are a good kid."

Sam beamed at Dean who couldn't help but smile also.

"You boys about ready to go," John asked as he fumbled with the duffle bags in his hand.

Dean took a couple of bags and popped the trunk open.

John tossed the duffels he was holding in the trunk and turned to meet Claire.

"I heard you were the one that helped my boys."

Claire suddenly got nervous and the boys didn't blame her. John could be intimidating when he wanted to, and often when he didn't, this time being no exception.

She cleared her throat. "I only dialed 911," she told John sheepishly.

"Still, you helped my boys when they needed it. Thank you."

"I'm just glad I was able to help. Take care," she told them and began to walk to her room that she was staying in with her parents.

"I think you scared her, dad." Sam said amused.

"To be fair, dad, you scare everybody." Dean tossed the last of the bags in the trunk and slammed it shut.

"I'm not that scary," John said in self-defense as he got in the car followed by Dean.

"Yes you are," both boys said in union, laughing.

John chuckled as he put the key in the ignition, starting the Impala, and put it in reverse. Yes reverse! And pulled out of the parking spot and headed for Bobby's.

**SPN**

The hum of the tires and blur of the road was starting to give John a headache and he could see Sam wiggling with discomfort though he obviously was trying to hide it. John pulled into a Denny's restaurant and immediately parked the Impala. They were all hungry and in desperate need to release their bladders after staying in the car for so many miles.

Sighing, John killed the ignition and quickly got out of the car, the squeak thunk of the opposite door told him Dean had followed his example. John tossed his eldest the keys so he could get Sam's wheelchair out of the trunk while John removed their duffle bags that had been crammed in the left side of the backseat.

Sam had already taken his seatbelt off and had the door ajar when John came around to his side and gently picking him up. Dean pushed the wheelchair up to them and John carefully placed Sam in it.

"Thanks dad," Sam told him, smiling as John closed the door.

"Sam, you don't have to thank me and Dean for every little thing we do for you," John told his son.

"I know, but I'd feel weird not saying it," Sammy said.

"Let's go get a table." Taking the handles John pushed Sammy this time, thankful that the lot was paved. It rankled him a bit that though he and Dean took turns, whenever Sammy wanted Dean to push him, which was most of the time, then John had to let Dean do it for Sammy's sake.

When they reached the entrance of the diner Dean opened one of the double doors, patiently waiting for John and Sam to enter first. A quick glance at the rapidly approaching chair and then the opening made Dean realize there wasn't enough room to push Sammy in and he had to sling over to the other door to slightly open it as well.

"This place should have automatic doors," Dean muttered as John ducked beneath his arm to wheel Sammy in. When they made it through Dean let go of his hold, allowing the doors to fall back so he could follow right behind them. As soon as the doors closed most everybody in the restaurant stopped what they were doing and stared at them.

The self-conscious slump and ducking of his brother's head made Dean want to punch every single person in the face that was staring at his little brother like he was a freak just because he was in a wheelchair. It wasn't Sammy's fault, he didn't deserve this. Dean knew it was himself that was the freak, he was the one who should be sitting in the chair, he was the one who should pay over and over for his mistake, and whatever he paid it would never be enough. Situations like this made him crave to do another hit.

"What the hell are you all staring at?" Dean snapped angrily. "Have you people never seen a fucking wheelchair before?"

"Dean," John said in a harsh tone.

"They are all fucking staring at Sammy like he's some kind of alien just because he's in a wheelchair," he shouted in the same tone as before, making sure the whole restaurant heard him.

It was almost like somebody had flicked a switch as soon as the words left his lips. A cough then a rustle moved across the room, followed by the clinking of cutlery and low murmur of conversation as everyone in the restaurant slowly returned to what they had been doing before they arrived.

A host finally greeted them with a polite smile. Apparently Sammy being in a wheelchair didn't faze this worker.

"I'm so sorry about that. Table for three?" the young man asked.

"What gave it away," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"Dean!" John barked, giving him his last warning.

The young worker grabbed three menus and escorted the trio into the dining area. "Would you like a booth or table?" he asked, still smiling too much.

"Table will be fine," John said, giving the poor guy an apologetic look for Dean's behavior.

The poor bastard showed them their table and removed one of the chairs so Sam could sit there.

"Thank you," Sammy told him.

"You're welcome. Here are your menus," he said placing each one in front of them. "Someone will be here to take your order shortly. In the meantime can I get you all something to drink?"

"Coffee, black." John told him.

The poor bastard looked at Dean nervously. "And for you?"

"I'll have a coke," Dean said smirking back at him. Dean loved watching this dork squirm.

He cleared his throat. "I see," he said stuttering and quickly turned to Sammy. "And you?"

"I'll have a coke also," Sam told him smiling at him.

"I'll be back in a couple of minutes with your drinks," he told his table and quickly scampered away.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle.

"Dean, that was uncalled for," John said in a disapproving tone.

Taken aback by his father's reprimand, Dean pursed his lips. "I was only looking out for Sammy."

"But he didn't deserve it, Dean." Sammy told his brother. "He was the only one that didn't stare at me."

Dean sighed. "I'm sorry, Sammy. It won't happen again."

The poor bastard returned with their drinks, avoiding eye contact with Dean and scurrying away like his pants were on fire once their drinks were placed in front of them.

"I'm going to hit the can," John said standing up and looked at his youngest son."Do you have to go, Sam?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam flinch and hesitate as if to say no before quickly forcing out a yes.

John got behind Sam's wheelchair and pulled him away from the table before looking at Dean. "What about you, son?"

"I'm good for now," Dean said, taking a drink of his soda.

John gave him one last assessing look before he took Sammy to the restroom.

When Dean made sure they were out of sight, he pulled out a grubby slip of paper and went over to the payphone. His hand fumbled in his pocket for change and came out with the exact amount which he needed to make his call.

"Come on," Dean muttered with irritation as the line continued to ring. Just when he was about to replace it back on the receiver someone finally picked up. "It's me. I need your help with something…"

**SPN**

Sam couldn't help but feel humiliated when his father took him to the restroom. First off, John had to help pull his pants down and then help him onto the toilet. While Sam released his bladder, his father waited outside the stall to give him some personal space. When he told his dad he was finished, John went back in the stall and helped pull his pants back up. After a few minutes of making sure his clothes were back in place, John helped him back in his chair.

"Sorry, Sammy." John told his son knowing Sam was embarrassed as he wheeled him up to the special lowered sink so he could wash his hands.

"It's okay, dad." Sam leaned forward to get some soap before working the paddle-shaped handles to get the water gushing.

"I know from here on out it's going to be difficult and humiliating at times-" John began but Sam cut him off.

"I know it's part of my recovery. I _am_ going to be able to walk again. It's just a learning process." Sam said rinsing his hands off.

John couldn't help but smile at how strong Sammy was. "I'm proud of you, son."

**SPN**

About an hour or so later John and the boys were back on the road, headed straight for Bobby's. Trying not to be too obvious, John kept glancing in the back seat to see how things were going. Sam had fallen asleep, a squashy old motel pillow providing some padding against the Impala's hard window, but Dean looked pale and just stared off into the distance, no hint of the nervous energy that usually drove him crazy on long drives. John couldn't help but notice how Dean had been acting lately. The kid was strung up tight and the thing at the restaurant had tipped him off that Dean still didn't forgive himself for what happened to Sammy. He was going to have to talk some sense into Dean, because if he didn't… Dean might snap and spiral downhill, something he wasn't going to let happen.

**A/N:**** Huge sorry for the long delay but I already started the next chapter. **

**And for those of you who didn't hear over the weekend; Jared finally got a twitter account. Yay! It's jarpad. **

**Now only if Jensen would get one….**


	7. Chapter 7

**Beta:**** Badass Samantha V**

**Huge thanks to all of you that's been reviewing and sticking with the story. **

Dean yelped in annoyance and surprise when the Impala came to a sudden stop sending his body crashing forward.

"What the hell, dad?" he asked, rubbing his forehead where he had banged it on the back seat.

John gave Dean one of his 'looks' that made him shut up right away. "Stopping for gas." John cracked the car door open and had one leg out before he twisted around. "You boys want anything?"

"Actually, I've got to hit the can," Dean flung open his door in a rush. His boots crunching against the gravel as he slammed it shut. "I don't care what you get."

"Watch the door!" John yelled at Dean who was already out of view.

"I'm worried about him." Sam's eyes were glued to where his brother had disappeared into the grimy store front.

John sighed. "I know. Me too."

"What are we supposed to do? Act like everything is okay?"

John shoved his hands in his coat pockets. "Once we get to Bobby's and get settled, then I'll talk to Dean."

Sammy seemed to relax a little. "Okay."

**SPN**

Dumping the ridiculous ten ton steel plate attached to the restroom key, Dean locked the door and pulled out a plastic bag from one of his pockets. He held the bag up, unable to resist it.

Dean closed his eyes. "Once I take this then everything will be fine again." He snapped his eyes open in the tiny restroom and stood in front of the dirty sink. "Time to make me happy…"

**SPN**

The dark skin of the Impala seeped remnants of the day's heat onto John's side where he leaned as he pumped gas, slightly irritated when the pump kept stopping.

"Come on," John muttered, fiddling with the pump until it decided to work again.

"I take it it's acting up." Dean said too chipper for John's liking, walking around the Impala to stand next to his dad. John frowned when he noticed a faint trace of a white powdery substance under Dean's nose.

"What's that on your nose?" John demanded.

Dean looked shocked and quickly used the back of his hand to wipe it off.

"It must have been from the powered donut I ate," Dean said, hoping he was convincing.

Abandoning the sputtering hose in the Impala's tank, John crowded up into Dean's personal space, looking at his eldest son, not believing him. "What the hell was that, Dean? Don't lie to me!"

"I told you!" Forcing himself to look his father in the eye, Dean took a step back before shouting, "It's not my fault if you don't trust me!"

John glanced at Sammy's pale, scared face, peering at them from inside the car. He wasn't going to do this in front of his youngest and he looked back at Dean.

"Once we get to Bobby's, you and I are going to have a serious talk."

"Not with me!" Dean opened the back door forcefully, climbing in and slammed it shut, scaring Sam more.

Crossing his arms, Dean sank into the back corner of the bench seat. The warm cloud he'd been happily floating in lost to shredding anger until all that was left of the warm buzz was the jolting tingle still lurking under his skin. Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Things would be better for everybody if he was dead.

**Singer Salvage Yard**

Bobby Singer lifted his head up from his book when he heard the familiar sound of the engine pull up into his junkyard. Sighing, he stood up and went outside to greet the Winchesters.

"How was the ride?" Bobby asked, watching Dean put young Sammy in a wheelchair. Just the sight made his heart break for the little guy.

"Loads of fun," Dean said sarcastically as he wheeled Sammy up to him.

"Watch it, Dean." John warned him, popping the trunk open.

Bobby saw Dean roll his eyes. Something was definitely wrong, but he shrugged it off for now.

"How you doing, kiddo?" Bobby asked Sam.

"Happy now that we're here," Sam said, beaming. "Can I play with Rumsfeld?"

"He's around here somewhere. Why don't you two go find him while I help your daddy with the bags?"

Both boys nodded and went on their scavenger hunt for the dog.

Bobby waited until the boys were out of earshot before going to help John.

"So, how are things really going?" Bobby asked, grabbing a couple of duffle bags.

"Not good," John said tiredly. "Dean hasn't been the same since the accident."

"He's still blaming himself?"

"It's bad, Bobby. I think Dean's using drugs."

Bobby looked at him stunned. "Why would you say a thing like that? Dean's too smart to do anything stupid like that."

"I think the guilt of what happened is eating him up. I've tried to get him to open up, but nothing works."

"Well, Dean has never been the sharing and caring type."

"Which is why I think he turned to drugs," John told him. "You didn't see him last night, Bobby. When we stopped for gas, Dean came out of the restroom with some kind of powder white stuff under his nose."

"Could've been from a powdered donut," Bobby said, grasping at straws. He didn't want to believe that Dean was idjit enough to even use drugs.

"It wasn't, Bobby!" John snapped, letting the bags drop on the ground. "Now you're sounding like Dean, making up any excuse that first pops into your head!"

"This is hard for me too, John. I've known those boys since they were in diapers. It's a little hard to believe that one of them would be hurting themselves on purpose."

"Don't you think this is hard for me too? I thought Dean was smarter than that; wouldn't do something so stupid."

"Like you said before - Dean's having trouble dealing with what happened to Sam. He still thinks he's responsible."

John sighed tiredly. "I'm not going to lose my eldest boy to drugs, Bobby."

**SPN**

Dean continued to push Sammy's wheelchair over the rough ground, doing his best not to jostle his brother too much as Sam kept hollering for Rumsfeld. He screwed up last night and knew his father was going to keep pushing until he admitted that he was using.

Sometimes Dean thought that if their mother were still alive, things would be different. Sam and him would have an actual home with their own beds and, more importantly, their own bedrooms. Hell, he might have even had a steady girlfriend and Sam could be a normal kid just like he always wanted, with a pet of his own. Life might not have been perfect, he remembered vaguely that his parents were arguing a lot before the night of the fire, but of course he never told Sam that. Hell, he never even talked to his father about it.

"RUMSFELD!" Sam yelled loud enough to wake the dead.

Dean smirked at the thought that it was amazing that Bobby hadn't been robbed blind with his current less than incredibly observant mutt. He suspected Bobby only kept him because of Sam.

Finally, the lumbering shape of Rumsfeld came out of wherever he was hiding and jumped on Sam's lap licking his face wildly, making Sam laugh.

"You do know where his tongue has been, don't you?" Dean asked, teasing Sam as Rumsfeld continued his greeting.

"It's not like he can shake our hands, Dean." Sam said scratching the back of Rumsfeld's ears the way the dog liked it.

"Is he too heavy for you?" Dean asked concerned.

"He's always been heavy. Down boy," Sam told Rumsfeld. Whining in disagreement, the rotweiler did as he was told and rested his head on Sam's lap.

Dean walked around to kneel beside Sam's chair, stroking the dog's coarse fur with gentle hands.

The warm weight of the dog was comforting, and with the sun shining and his brother by his side, Sam could almost kid himself that everything was okay. Almost. Pale, washed out skin made the freckles stand out like ink on Dean's face and made the dark circles under his eyes seem like bruises, and if he stared he could see tiny tremors in his hands that Dean probably didn't even realize was happening. Sam couldn't wait for his dad to say something.

"Dean, I want you to stop blaming yourself for what happened to me," Sam blurted out in a rush.

Surprised, Dean froze, only nudged out of his shock by a cold nose wondering why he'd stopped with the petting. Turning away from his brother, Dean focused on the dog and making long, even strokes causing the animal to sigh in contentment. He swallowed. "I'm not."

"You're lying," Sam accused. "I can tell by the way you've been acting."

Dean didn't want to get mad at his brother, but he didn't want to talk about this anymore. "It's not against the law that you have to act the same way all the time, Sammy." Dean snapped, trying to act like it didn't bother him.

"Why can't you be honest with me?"

"Just drop the subject, Sam. Please," Dean begged.

Sam's eyes narrowed and he got that pinchy look on his face that Dean knew meant he wanted to argue, and he nearly sagged with relief when his brother's features smoothed out and his answer indicated that he'd decided to drop it, at least for the moment. "Okay."

"Come on," Dean said, shooing the now almost half-asleep dog away from the front of the wheelchair and walking behind to grab the handles. "We better get back."

"Come on, Rumsfeld!" Sam called as Dean pushed him, and Rumsfeld obeyed, following the two brothers back to his Master's house.


	8. Chapter 8

**Huge thanks for the reviews as always!**

**Beta:** **Badass Samantha V**

Dean managed to get Sammy inside Bobby's house with no help from his father. As soon as they entered the mouth watering smell of home cooking hit Dean's nostrils making his stomach growl.

Rumsfeld trotted ahead of the boys, wagging his tail back and forth and heading straight for his water bowl like he was dying of thirst.

"Hope you boys are hungry. I made macaroni and cheese," Bobby announced at the stove.

"My favorite!" Sammy beamed and Dean smiled. The kid sure did love mac and cheese. Shoving one of the chairs away from the table, Dean carefully rolled Sam forward and nudged the wheelchair into place so that the kid would be able to reach the table without any problems.

"Dean, could you set the table?" Bobby asked, turning off the burner.

"Are we expecting company or something?" Dean joked at the setting the table part. Usually they would just grab their own and then sit down and eat.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Just set the table, ya idjit."

Dean chuckled and went to get the bowls and spoons.

Rumsfeld whined watching the humans knowing they were about to eat.

"Don't worry, boy. I'll drop you some," Sammy said, petting him. Rumsfeld barked and licked his hand.

Dodging the dog, Sam's chair and Bobby putting the pot on the old table, Dean placed out the dishes and cutlery.

Dean cleared his throat, noticing his father was absent. "Where's dad?" he asked Bobby.

"John had to use the bathroom, I think," Bobby grumbled, hoping he sounded convincing. "You boys dig in, your daddy knows better than to keep dinner waiting if he wants to get anything to eat."

Unaware to Dean, John had absolutely no interest in food, his mind focused on his newest hunt…

**SPN**

Upstairs in the boys' room, John started to get angry. He had already gone through Dean's belongings three times and didn't find what he was looking for.

Finally, sighing in frustration, John made sure he had carefully put everything back in place so Dean wouldn't get suspicious. Although Dean's packing method could only generously be called chaotic, he had no doubt the boy would know instantly if anything had been shifted, after all that was something that he himself had taught him.

He was going to have a long talk with that boy whether Dean liked it or not.

John took a deep breath to calm down before going downstairs. He'd make sure to talk to Dean when Sammy wasn't there, but this wasn't going to wait any longer.

**SPN**

Back in the kitchen you could hear spoons scrapping against bowls and chewing. Dean had already helped himself to a second helping, not able to get enough of the cheesy gooey goodness. Why was he so freaking hungry?

Bobby and Sam had stopped eating halfway and watched in amazement at how fast Dean was wolfing his food down.

"Bobby, this is the best macaroni and cheese I have ever eaten," Dean said chewing between bites.

Bobby and Sam both gawked at Dean stupefied. After swallowing, Dean saw the way the two of them were looking at him and gave them a reassuring smile before digging back in his food.

Okay, something was definitely wrong with Dean because, yeah, the kid had one hell of an appetite, but Bobby knew his cooking wasn't that great. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

Bobby and Sam were exchanging worried looks when John came in and sat down.

"What'd I miss?" Grabbing the pot of clumpy orange noodles, John served himself what was left of it.

"Well, Dean said this is the best macaroni and cheese he had ever eaten." Bobby said skeptically.

Shocked, John looked at Dean who was down to his last bite.

"Sorry if you can't take a compliment." Dean griped, dropping the spoon to fall with a clatter into the bowl. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth when he was finished.

"You never compliment," Sammy chimed in.

"I compliment the ladies all the time," Dean replied with a grin.

"That's different. We expect that."

Dean's happy go lucky attitude quickly changed and he scooted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. What the hell was their problem? If he was in a good mood then something was wrong. If he wasn't in a good mood something was wrong!

"I'm going to take a shower," Dean said picking his bowl up and put it in the sink.

When Dean left the room it was filled with silence. Even Rumsfeld knew something was wrong because he did a soft whine before placing his head in Sammy's lap.

"It's okay, boy." Sammy said trying to reassure the dog but mostly trying to convince himself.

John picked up his spoon and ate a bite. Wasn't bad, not burned, certainly edible. After he swallowed he looked at Bobby, "I've had worse."

"If you don't like my cooking, then you cook," Bobby shot back, making Sammy smile.

"Dad can barely work a toaster. We all know that," Sammy said laughing.

John glared playfully at his youngest son but was happy that Sammy was enjoying himself. Determined to keep that lightness he started bantering with Bobby who gave as good as he got with Sam giggling and easily keeping up with the good natured joking and teasing.

His youngest had been through enough and this thing with Dean, whatever it was… Dean knew better and he'd make sure the boy learned not to let his issues get out of control and affect his brother. Winchesters didn't deal that way.

The lifting of tension in the room even had Rumsfeld lifting his head off of Sammy's lap, looking back and forth at the goofing around.

Unknown to them, Dean was silently listening to the happy chatter and laughter in the other room. Dean noticed how quickly everyone seemed happier after he left the room. He was right. Everyone was happier with him gone.

**SPN**

An hour after eating dinner Sammy was lying on the couch in the living room watching cartoons. Every couple of minutes he would glance at the clock. Dean sure was taking a long time in the shower. He had a bad feeling that something was wrong.

"Dad!" Sam yelled loud enough to get his attention.

John walked into the room. "What is it, son?"

"Something's wrong," Sammy said, looking worried. "Dean's been in the shower far too long."

John glanced at the clock. Sammy was right. "I'll go upstairs and check on him."

One foot after another John raced up the stairs, quickly reaching the bathroom door. He heard the shower water still running.

"Dean, you okay in there?" John called, knocking on the door.

When only silence answered him, John placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted it to open. The door didn't budge. It was locked.

"Dean!" John shouted. "Open the door!" Rattling the handle and banging on the wood to emphasize his point. "Sorry, Bobby." Barely pausing, John took a deep breath and kicked the bathroom door open. Pushing aside bits of splintered doorframe, he stepped inside to an empty room, no signs anybody had even been there other, not even a pile of clothes on the floor, nothing other than the soft hiss of water gently fluttering the edges of the shower curtain.

"Dean!" John pulled the shower curtain back and his heart caught in his chest.

Oh god… nononono… For a second John couldn't move and just stared at Dean who was sprawled out in the bathtub with his clothes still on - soaked, pale, and unresponsive.

"Dean!" Shaking himself out of his stupor, John slammed off the water and grabbed handfuls of cold, sodden clothes to haul his eldest son out of the tub and that's when he noticed the blood…

**A/N:**** I know this chapter is kind of short but I wanted to give you guys something for making you wait.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N****: First and foremost, I want to thank the amazing and very talented Samantha V for still being the Beta for this story. I know it's been forever since I last updated this story, I wanted to make sure that Samantha V would still Beta it. I didn't feel comfortable putting someone else's Beta work on this story.**

**I want to thank all of you for still sticking with this story and for putting up with my crazy schedule. I really hope this chapter made up for the long overdue wait. **

Downstairs, Sammy felt a wave of panic at the sound of distress and fear of his father's voice. Gripping his chair's tires in suddenly numb and fumbling hands, he started to wheel himself to the edge of the bottom step, stopping dead in his tracks when he realized there was no way for him to go up to the second floor without any help.

Bobby rushed in past Sam making his legs go as fast as he could up the stairs to see what the hell was going on. When Bobby reached the second floor, he rounded the corner to the bathroom where he spotted John holding his eldest son tight as if he were his lifeline. Both were soaking wet on the floor. In his state of panic, Bobby didn't even notice the pill debris that remained in the tub. Only how pale Dean looked almost as if he was...

"Call 911!" John shouted at Bobby as he remained focused on his unresponsive son in his lap.

Bobby ran back down to the first floor past Sam who was frantically wanting to know what was happening. Sam knew it was serious and it scared him. He had never heard his father sound so anguished and fearful before.

John kept trying desperately to wake Dean up. He tried slapping Dean's face, shaking him, anything that he could think of to get him to wake up.  
"Don't you do this to me again. You took Mary! My son stays, you hear me!" he yelled, ignoring the tears that escaped.

"Bobby, what's wrong with Dean!" Sammy cried. His heart was racing a mile a minute not knowing what was happening! Sammy strained to hear what Bobby was saying as he heard him barking harsh orders on the phone to the 911 operator. At the same time, Sammy stayed close by the stairs not wanting to leave his brother.

Bobby walked up to the kid. The image of Dean unresponsive remained like a horrifying nightmare. Bobby tried to place a comforting hand on the kid's shaking shoulder. He noticed he couldn't get it to stop trembling and removed it. "I ain't going to lie to you, kid. It's bad."

Tears burned in Sammy's eyes. No. It's Dean. He's always been strong and in control. He wouldn't leave him.

Siren's wailed on Bobby's property, coming closer to the house. Sammy prayed that they weren't late for his older brother... 

**SPN**

John Winchester had faced many things in his life - he'd risked his life for his country; he'd lost the love of his life and the mother to his two children; good friends had died in the battle between good and evil. Losing Mary had almost killed him, yet, somehow, he'd managed to make it through those devastating events, but, if he ever lost his sons, he knew he wouldn't survive. Not this time.

It was all a blur when the paramedics arrived. The only vivid memory was the paramedics trying to get Dean out of his strong hold. The ride to the hospital was a blank. John didn't even remember how he'd wound up in the drab, bland, waiting room, seated as far away from the petrified gazes of the other huddled people waiting for news on their loved ones.

What hurt John the most was that his oldest had been in pain and he had been too stubborn to even notice. He could have prevented this instead of waiting until the last minute. John knew how hard he'd driven both Sam and his brother while others were learning about life, his kids had been learning about death and fighting real nightmares that regular kids dreamed of. He just wanted his kids to be able to protect themselves.

"Got you some coffee. Tastes like crap." Bobby said, holding two steaming Styrofoam cups of black coffee.

John gave Bobby a look that Bobby knew - he didn't want the damn coffee, so Bobby placed both cups on a nearby waiting room table.  
"He's going to pull through, John."

"He has to survive, Bobby! How could he have been so stupid as to even consider putting those damn drugs in his system?!"

"Are you kidding me? You know he blamed himself for Sam's accident. What was worse was that you had blamed him! How did you think he would feel after you had yelled at him?" Bobby said with anger. "You pin everything on that boy! Hell, he practically raised his brother alone while you were off on hunts! We all have a breaking point, I shouldn't have to tell you that. When Dean pulls through, you need to go easy on him and be the parent that both those boys need. They deserve to be kids, damn it!" Bobby finished in one breath.

Bobby expected for John to yell back like he always have done in the past. John just stared down at the tile floor.

"You're right. I was never a parent to them. Not the kind that they should have. You were the only one that tried to give them a semi-normal life whenever I dropped the boys off to go on the next hunt. If… when Dean pulls through, I want him to live with you."

John looked at Sammy who was a few inches away from him in his wheelchair. What kind of parent let's it get out of control like this? 


End file.
